The Legend of KaW - Feather's Version

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• Legends of Kingdoms at War - Feather Hunter's Version
  Part One — The Land
  
  Chapter One

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Sand-filled winds blasted against my ankles, removing any lotion I'd put on my skin prior to going out here. The sunlight was surprisingly... Light, today. Fluffy, more or less. It moved through my fingers in such a way that I felt nostalgia well up in my chest. It hadnt been this way since the Update.

I contemplated taking off my red and green cloak, complimentary with the time of year, KaWmas! KaWmas, the greatest time of the year. KaW_Admin gave out presents, usually crystals, around this time of year. It was funny, one of my friends, Outdoortoast, had made the analogy that the Developers were Santa, although I call him Sanga, Spragga's cousin, because of their red halo and red skin, and the mods were like Spranta's evil elves. They have a green halo, but natural skin.

I could hear the sounds of a spring up ahead, small whispers of conversation carrying over the hill from it. I couldn't tell if it was actually his voice in my ear or an illusion. Legend had it that no one can escape from the Newbs Oasis but those who are worthy. Those of us who made it knew it wasn't a legend, but we didn't tell the newbs that.

I'd been assigned, involuntarily, the task of monitoring the new Android newbies. I was interested in seeing how numerous they were. It was rumored that their would be thousands!

The moment I stepped over the ridge, heading to the spring, I felt his presence. Moose, moderator of the Forums, the most beloved area of KaW.

I turned swiftly, grabbed my twin swords quickly, one in each hand, whirling them around so fast that dirt began to rise from the ground in double whirlwinds.

“Hello, Moose.” I said, icily.

“Featherus Hunterio, how nice of you to show up.” Moose said, his large nose flaring.

“Never use my full name.” I replied, tritely.

That's when we noticed the influx of Android noobs, and formed a temporary alliance. This was going to be a hard task.

 

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• Legends of Kingdoms at War - Feather Hunter's Version
  Part One — The Land
  
  Chapter One, Part Two: Winter, Summer, and the Newb

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The ground trembled as the Portal began to open, newbs emerging from it. Moose glared at me with his huge, glossy eyes, pointing with his long, muscular arm at a portion of the portal.

“U wool b n charge of tose...” He cleared throat, trying to suppress his troll accent and succeeding. “Newbs.”

“Seems someone is having a problem shaking off his trollistic accent?” I taunted. “Perhaps you should go rejoin them. They seem to still be confused by the fact that a troll has become a mod.”

“You dare speak to a moderator like that?” Moose exclaimed, making that sound only certain animals, like horses, could make.

“I only speak English. I can't speak troll!” I replied, adding a touch of dullness to my voice so that he'd know I was bored with this conversation.

I descended the ridge, approaching the spring. More and more newbs were jumping out of the water, which indeed was the Portal. I reached down into the crystal clear waters, watching the Process.

“Hey, newbie, come here!” I commanded one of the Finished. “It's mandatory that you learn every stage of the Process.”

“What's your name, newb?” I said as he approached me, more apprehensive that confident.

“It's...” He took a second to think, pulling out his small sword and checking the name engraved on it's hilt. “My username is Summer.”

“Well, Summer, I'm Feather Hunter, one of the Guardians of the Sacred Fan Fiction section of the Forums, crown Kingdom of KaW. Can you tell me what we're looking at?”

Summer began to morph, his image flickering between a guy with a long, black and white cloak, a guy with a orange and red cloak, and the newb.

“I see... Destruction. Massive destruction. I see a man with a golden thumb. He's entering a giant skull. A flash of black. A single feather. Golden thumb is gone...” Summer replied, his eyes black, flecks of white interspersed in the black. “My name is Winter, although some people add a 's'. I'm a member of the Thinkers. Do you prefer speaking to me or my alternate personality, Summer, which people also sometimes add a 's' to?”

I was thoroughly freaked out. The Thinkers? I thought they'd been annihilated by the Moderators. They'd been exiled to the Highlands, where it was rumored they were being tortured on counts of treason.

“Winter. What's with the newb façade?”

“You know as well as I do that the Thinkers were ba — how amazing! That guy just chose his flag!” Winter had abruptly stopped, Moose hovering behind us.

“Are you teaching this newbie well? Cuz if u nart, i wool repirt u 2 da Devs.” Moose cleared his throat. “Because if you are not, I will report you to the Developers.”

“Yes, Moose. You're disrupting the lesson on the Process. Be gone.” I replied.

That's when the ground began to tilt forward rapidly, and I heard the sound of a sword being put back into it's sheath.

 

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• Legends of Kingdoms at War - Feather Hunter's Version
  Part One — The Land
  
  Chapter One, Part Three: Apparitions

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A newb emerged from the Portal, returning his sword to his sheath, causing me to jump back in surprise. I was so startled, I unsheathed my twin claymores.

“Scared, Featherus?” Moose asked, a sly grin coming to his face.

“When I saw the ground tilting forward, and heard the sound of the sword being sheathed, I thought you'd attacked me.” I said, putting my own swords in their sheaths on my back.

The newb lumbered towards Moose, a quizzical expression on his face. Winter and I had no choice but to eavesdrop, with Moose and the newb being right behind us!

“Why do you look so — abnormal?” The newb posed the question with a friendly enough tone, but even the newbiest of newbs should've known not to ask that, although it was an understandable question.

You see, the Finished were given no background information on KaW. Once you entered, you had to learn the game for yourself. There is no "tutorial". Once you enter, you must survive and join a clan, or you will surely perish.

Some players took their game a bit further. They had the Alchemist create a permanent spell, one that transformed them into something... Abnormal.

Moose had become a mutant. His features were both human and moose. His eyes, big, wide, and glossy. His nose was wet and fat, with huge nostrils, though it didn't protrude from his body as far as a normal moose's did. His body, covered in sleek brown fur, the fur light on the underside. He had antlers on his head. His hands were human, but covered in that fur and had thick nails. His feet were hooves. He had a large tail. He was muscular everywhere. The only thing human about him were his hands, his semi-human nose, and the fact that he walked upright.

Legend had it that the Alchemist had pleaded with Moose, telling him that it wasn't worth it. Too bad, though. The Alchemist was corrupted by his greed, and when Moose produced his big bag of mithril, the Alchemist instantaneously gave in.

Moose gave the newb a dumbfounded look before turning around and walking away.

We slowly turned back to our conversation. “How can he not see you for what you are?”

I had time to ponder it a little longer before Winter responded.

“The Alchemist; he made this newb façade for me. It wasn't easy, though. It took a lot of threatening by Maki to get him to finally give in.” Winters paused, his body convulsing for a second. “We escaped when Forsaken_Guardian, formerly known as Colonial, attended a Moderator meeting. Only you and anyone else I allow can see me for who I truly am.”

Why was Winter convulsing? I didn't know, but decided to put the thought in the back of my mind temporarily.

“The Thinkers, they were a symposium of philosophers, artists, inventors, activists, and scientists. I don't understand why they were banned!?” I was trying to keep calm. Whenever I got angry, I became irrational.

“They knew too much. They had too much influence on the KaW Population. Now that we've escaped, though, we can right the wrongs of the Update, and restore happiness to KaW.” Winters explained.

A pained expression crossed his face, his eyes rolling into the back of his head for a second. When they rolled back down, his eyes were a different color. Instantly I knew I was now speaking to Summers when I said this:

“What just happened?”

“With so many personalities and visions within my head, it's hard to maintain control of who I am. It's why I joined the Thinkers. When the Oracle gave me this — gift — I immediately contacted them about it.” Summer exclaimed, his voice low, melodic, but filled with worry.

Suddenly a chill ran up my spine, and a cold wind rushed through the Valley of Sand, a name synonymous with the Newb Oasis. Ice began forming on top of the Portal, and you could hear the cries of those below the ice, filled with despair as they tried in vain to finish the Process and escape from the clutches of the ice.

I saw Chongo Hombre take out his Sikh, slowly twirling it around his index finger. A Sikh is a very hard weapon to master, but for some reason it was his weapon of choice.

If Chongo was already arming himself, then hope might as well have been the grain of sand I'd just brushed from my hands as I lifted myself up. Even from my position, across the now frozen spring, I could see the look of utter fear on his sweaty face.

A fog began to descend upon the Newbs Oasis, the sun retreating behind the clouds. The wind howled and tore through the defenses of even Chongo, pushing us to the ground. If Chongo, the second most powerful player in KaW couldn't manage to stand, then who could?

The fog began to whirl around us. I couldn't see in front of myself momentarily. The fog seemed to converge into a massive cloud, and a dragon soon took shape.

Half of my body was suddenly submerged in water, and as I stood up, I had to rub my eyes.

The Portal had disappeared, and were no longer in the Newb Oasis. We were on a isle, the ground flickering beneath us. Apparitions began appearing out of no where, sneaking up behind us and putting shimmering handcuffs on us.

A brief skirmish happened between a group of them and Chongo, but when his Sikh went right through them and sliced a newb clean in half, he too succumbed to the ghosts.

Everyone turned to Benny, Supreme Mod of KaW, who had tears in his eyes. His bottom lip quivered slowly and despair took hold of us. His armor had been ripped apart, the green crown on his head dented and destroyed.

“I've only seen this place once before, during the defeat of Calydor!” Benny shouted, his voice shaky. “Beware, we have stumbled upon the Apheriun of Exile, where the dead and damned thrive.”

The dragon hissed, approaching Benny who was shaking so badly, his armor was starting to fall off. The ghosts forged him onto his knees, and ripped his crown off.

“Benny, Supreme Moderator of KaW, above all mods but below all Developers!” It said with glee, venom dripping from it's huge fangs. “For I am Ahdragos, the greatest warrior to ever grace the land of KaW!”

Instantly I knew he was the making of the Alchemist. That greedy fool! I should've learned all legends were true by now! Those giant red wings, shiny and scaled went well with his eye sockets, which were filled with fire.

Ahdragos had come in a spectacular fashion. I wasn't surprised he'd become king of the... Isle. As he morphed into a human, I couldn't shake the feeling I'd seen him before somewhere... Impossible, he was before my time.

“Are you experiencing any visions about this place? How can I tell when you're... Seeing?” I asked Summer, then proceeded with pleading with Spragga to get us out of here.

As Ahdragos interrogated Benny, he proceeded in answering my question.

“You should know. You were the one who initiated me into the Thinkers.” Summer replied.

 

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• Legends of Kingdoms at War - Feather Hunter's Version
  Part One — The Land
  
  Chapter Two: The Thinkers

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“What did you say?” I whispered, trying to get closer so I could hear him better, but restricted by the ghosts.

“Too much.” Summer whispered back, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. “Be quiet before Ahdragos hears you!”

At the mention of his name, Ahdragos abruptly stopped talking and turned. He glanced at us briefly, then turned back to Benny.

After that, I was silent. It was like he'd scared the sound out of me. I kept trying, but it was like my vocal cords had stopped producing a voice. I began to listen to Ahdragos, watching as he paced back and forth slowly, each movement he made precise but effortless.

“So, what you're saying is, the Moderators have been holding the Thinkers hostage in the Highlands,” Ahdragos paused, his serpentine tongue flicking out of his mouth sinisterly. “And are torturing them as we speak?”

“That is correct,” Benny said, his skin now gleaming with sweat.

“Who issued the command to do this and why hasn't the KaWmunity noticed?” Ahdragos asked, doing that snake thing again.

It looked demonic — the whole serpent tongue in a human mouth. He had a nose, so why did he need to taste the air? Was it instinct, or could that tongue of his detect fear as it radiated off of everyone there.

“We... We chained both the Alchemist and the Oracle and made them create a spell powerful enough to erase the Thinkers from everyone's memory.” Everyone looked at Benny with abhorrence. “They failed to mention that in the Land of Death, the memory would return...”

“That doesn't explain why I was able to remember the Thinkers before we arrived!” I shouted, struggling against my captors.

“What did you say?” Moose snarled, stomping the ground violently.

“It started before I was given Newb Duty — a single dream that gave rise to confusion. I've been remembering things.” I paused. “I just figured I was dreaming about the Myths.”

“They are no myths, Featherus. The Thinkers are very real. You must have full recollection of the Thinkers now, don't you?” Ahdragos thought aloud, his body shuddering as a long and slender dragon tale sprouted out of his lower back.

He grabbed Benny with it, thrusting him at me. The apparitions quickly pushed him down onto his knees.

“Tell him you're sorry. You destroyed the Thinkers. I know it was you who gave the order to have the Thinkers imprisoned. What puzzles me is the fact that Featherus was not imprisoned...” Ahdragos gave me a mischievous look. “Why, with such esoteric knowledge at his fingertips, he could start a rebellion. Possibly overthrow the Developers... I'll leave you to ponder that.”

Ahdragos began squeezing Benny harder, his face turning blue from lack of air. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry I imprisoned your fellow Thinkers!” Benny screamed in pain. “At least I didn't destroy the Areopagus!”

Ahdragos still didn't look satisfied, so he began squeezing harder.

“Memories forgotten can never be recaptured. They are exiled to Apheriun. That explains why everyone here knows what we're discussing.” Ahdragos gave Benny a vehement look, and a conflicted expression crossed his face, but in a split second it was gone.

“I have the power to free memories, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Tell the Developers that I'm leaving the godawful place.” He turned to me, bending down to look me in the eye. “Spragga guards you, always. By midnight tonight, he will give me the ability to roam freely.”

After that it felt like a was in a trance, my memory flooding back to me. My eyelids became heavy, and people around me began to fall abruptly to the ground. The last image I saw was Ahdragos letting Benny go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The stench of death permeated through the air, wafting under my nose from some faraway place. I flew parallel to the Forums, giving me a perfect view of the most beloved kingdom in KaW. I could see my Topic in the distance, castle spires rising out of the Mountains that helped further separate the Highlands from the Lowlands.

I'd awoke on the back of a dragon, a piece of parchment with Ahdragos' signature at the bottom. The parchment simply read:

• This dragon will carry you as far as Swabia's Castle.
  
  May Spragga guard you,
  
  Ahdragos

Swabia's Castle? That was the farthest southwest you could go in the Lowlands.

Swabia was a member of the Thinkers. He'd been able to avoid being imprisoned by helping create some modifications to the Player owned castles. I remembered it like it was yesterday. His willingness to be taken captive; his devotion to the Thinkers stronger than any other member by far. I think he thought hed disgraced us somehow by being chosen to fix the Castles.

He was the most venerable of the inventor Thinkers in the organization.

My only dilemma was, why had Ahdragos sent me to him? I contemplated over what I'd say when I got there as I fell back asleep.

 

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• Legends of Kingdoms at War - Feather Hunter's Version
  Part One — The Land
  
  Chapter Two, Part Two; The Shadows

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I could hear wailing in the distance, getting closer and closer as I neared the Southern Mountains. I had had different speculations as to whether I was truly in my realm, or still in the nether plane, where Apheriun was located.

The nether plane frequently found it's way into our realm, the seal separating our particular levels of existence. Now that I knew all legends were true, I knew that I'd visit the nether plane one more time, as the legend states that those who have seen death must experience it twice.

Those speculations had happened earlier, though. I knew for a fact that I had returned to KaW. When I had awoke on the back of this magnificent dragon, the Forums where to my right, the River of the Finished was behind me, with the Valley of Sand beyond it. It was nighttime, but the sky seemed to thicken and get even blacker as I looked to my left flank, the Skull of Anamnesis lurking just beneath the darkness.

The Skull of Anamnesis was the farthest Northeast you could go in the Lowlands, and possibly the deadliest. It was under the jurisdiction of the infamous mutant, Black Bird, also known as the Nefarious One. He was a moderator with the power to bend the very fibers of darkness, invading your mind with all kind of horrible memories your conscious tried it's best to suppress.

Even from miles and miles away, you could see the shadows morphing, hiding the Skull. As I turned back around, something smacked me in my face. It was some kind of gleaming multicolored mist. I could see the silhouette of a building on the outskirts of Swabia's dominion.

At that moment I realized what it was: Swabia's Castle. Simultaneously, I realized what the mist was as well.

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The atmosphere was chill, my bone-dry skin cracking the moment I stepped of the dragon. That's when I noticed it: the blood red eyes, seemingly made of fire; the red scales and serpentine tail.

I'd ridden on Ahdragos.

“You've been set free...” I murmured in awe, rubbing his snout.

“You treateth my like a pet. You rub my nose like I'm not vicious and cannot incinerate ye. Is thou not afraid?” Ahdragos asked, using his native tongue, which began to lose popularity as the newer generation of players made their rise.

“No, I am not afraid,” I said, my voice sounding foreign to my ears, devoid of fear. “I am happy for you. Even though it bewilders me that you would be so kind to transport me here.”

“You may never know my motive,” He replied. “but listen closely. Do not let Swabia deceive you.” He gazed at me with those dragon eyes, quickly ascending into the air.

I watched him thoughtfully as he headed Northeast.

Wait... Northeast? I decided to put it off for a later time, moving toward the entrance of Swabia's Castle.

Too bad I didn't notice the origin of the waiting before I entered the Thinkers code to enter the castle.

Code entry:

ΝЖПЖИ
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• Legends of Kingdoms at War - Feather Hunter's Version
  Part One — The Land
  
  Chapter Three, Part One: Fragile Escape

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“ No idea can succeed except at the expense of sacrifice; no one ever escapes without enduring strain from the struggle of life.”
Ernest Renan

I was running, running for my life. The bag was thumping against my leg, slowing me down, but I couldn’t let go. No, I couldn’t. I could hear his growls in the distance. He was getting closer, howling at the top of his lungs, succeeding at his attempt to make me feel severe trepidation.

“Come on,” I screamed, detaching the rest of my tattered and shredded cloak. “Just a mile more!”

“I can only run so fast,” The Seer said, her voice going high-pitched. “I didn’t realize Silver’s Hollow would be so far away. If I’d have known, I would’ve stayed in the dungeons. My shoes were made by the Sultan of Cleotigra! Now they’re ruined! ”

“You would’ve sooner died,” I said, looking behind me briefly to see how far they were behind. “Come on, Warlock, you’ll die too if you don’t move expeditiously.”

When I turned around, I came almost came face to face with a nightmare I was hoping would never become a reality. My boots skidded in the mud, making me fall backwards as I backpedaled away from the mud pit that, without my quick reflexes, would’ve sucked me in. My glasses broke with the impact, allowing glass to cascade into my eyes. I cried out, my voice filled with despair.

A feminine hand clasped around my outstretched one, pulling me out of the mud. I felt blood from my bleeding eyes tickle the corner of my mouth as it spilled it’s way down my cheek, dripping from my chin, hitting the damp and cold ground.

“Thank you, Seer.” I said, trying to invoke all the sincerity I could muster into my voice. “Please, O Warlock, heal my eyes,” I said pleadingly, inclining my head to where I thought the he’d be.

“You are healed.” Came a raspy reply.

Hot breath collided with my cheek. My eyelids were forced open, allowing glass shards to spill out of them like the rain that was falling just south of us. When I finally regained my sight, they were far ahead of me. I put on a burst of speed, slowly increasing so that I wouldn’t get cramps.

By now the rain had raced it’s way to our current locations, big fat drops each hitting the ground with a loud plop. Lightning lit up the sky, illuminating the area for miles around. Beads of sweat seemed to purposely get into my eyes, amplifying my blurry vision even further. The rain began to fall harder, diluting the sweat and decreasing the salinity of it whenever a drop fell into my eyes, involuntarily easing the pain. Although my vision was still blurry without my glasses, at least I could still see in front of me. Or maybe I couldn’t.

I felt something hit my leg just above the ankle, and suddenly I was hurdling towards the ground. Quick as a cat, I extended my palms, cushioning the majority of my fall. I heard a snap and new instantly I’d broken my right wrist and possibly my right ankle. I rolled onto my back, dislodging my throbbing ankle from the tree root that had tripped me. I cradled my injured wrist in my hand, the pain making black spots appear in my eyes.

I cursed silently. That was my writing hand! The hair on the back of my neck suddenly stood up. I swiftly got to my feet, running towards the Greats as fast as I could. “Hurry,” I yelled, dropping my hand to the side, moving it back and forth to increase the speed at which my legs moved.

“We’re trying! It’s no use, Featherus. He’s going to murder us. I see it in the distance. Darkness will surge forward, and the Child will trap us under his thick, slender claws.” I involuntarily shuddered at the Seers words – or maybe I was just going into shock. “He’ll rake them across our throats and bathe himself in our blood; his fangs will extend, cutting his lower lip, but he will not stop until all the blood in our bodies is drained.”

A monstrous growl resonated clearly from behind us. I tried to run, the desperation I was feeling triumphing over the sense of honor I should’ve felt for getting to die with the Greats beside me. One rough, callused hands closed around my ankles, and what I assumed to be the beast’s other hand slammed into my back, causing me to land, for the second time that night, face first in the mud.

Claws began to rip at the fabric of my shirt, destroying it within seconds. My flesh tore, and I felt a hot, sticky liquid on my skin. The smell of my blood filled the air, sharp and coppery. A harsh gasp escaped my throat, triggered by both pain and fear as the Warlock fell to the ground beside me, his face shredded. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head, and his chest was no longer looking like it was rising and falling.

“The Alchemist is dead,” I whispered, then repeated, “iZaln is dead. Hestia will soon die, too, if the Child does not play with her first.” I forced the words out with a dying breath, the wind picking them up, hopefully carrying them to the Forums.

A hairy, clawed hand descended onto my neck, forcing my head down. In my peripheral vision I could see the Oracle running as fast as she could in the shoes she was wearing. Her words echoed in my ears, He’ll rake them across our throats and bathe himself in our blood.
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• Legends of Kingdoms at War - Feather Hunter's Version
  Part One — The Land
  
  Chapter Three, Part One: Sinister Pleasures

“God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.”
- Hamlet to Ophelia

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Six hours before the capture
The fear was overwhelming; his intimidating demeanor, superior attitude, and those glowing gauntlets. I was face-to-face with Swabia. He looked at me over the rim of his spectacles, his face lacking any expression.

“I’m surprised to see you,” Swabia said, his face momentarily transforming to a look of shock. “I thought you’d been locked away in the Highland Tundras, like they’d planned. Do you have any recognition of what I’m talking about?”

“I’m afraid not. For some reason, I was given… amnesty.” I replied, watching him run his index finger along his right gauntlet. “Though my memory is slowly returning.”

I shivered, looking around. We were in a courtyard with some of the most bizarre conditions I’d seen yet. The moon was covered by clouds of that multicolored mist shining above us, creating a dark, sinister effect. A cold wind rustled the leaves of the raven-invested trees surrounding us, making me both shiver because of the temperature as well as in apprehension. Their beady eyes gleamed in the light of the shadowed midnight moon.

A smile tugged at the corners of Swabia’s mouth. “You’ve noticed my ravens, I see.”

Before I could reply, that persistent noise began reaching my ears again, like a desperate soul trying to rejoin the living. Swabia quickly got up, ascending the steps to the castle doors with a rapidness that matched the speed at which Corinthian can pull his scythes. He threw the doors open, “Stay here!” He yelled angrily, pulling them shut as if the huge, silver handles, burned his hands.

~~~~~~~

The Forums loomed overhead, the bright lights of the giant empire irradiating the Land for miles around. Snow fell in giant whirls around me, blinding me with iridescent light, the product of the light reflecting off the snow. My gold cloak swirled at my feet, the lion fur lining the entire inside brushing against my ankles. I pulled my hood up, making every effort to conceal my face.

I approached the Gates with caution, clinging to the shadows. I quietly slipped in; a late-night lurker. Giant castles surrounded me, causing just the right amount of claustrophobia to make me move faster. I maneuvered through the winding streets with ease, heading towards the mountain in the center of the gigantic empire.

Laughter was spilling out of the open windows of some of the castles I passed, as well as chairs and violent conversation in others. I was passing through Off Topic. At night, Off Topic looked more intimidating than it did in daylight. The bright and dark colors of the different castles, manor houses, and shacks seemed to meld together in moving, dark colored shadows.

Reaching the mountain, I began ascending the steps that spiraled it as fast as I could. The entire mountain was covered by the many buildings and people that made up the kingdom of Fan Fiction. The way the kingdom is set up is that whenever space is needed, they just cleave off a section of the mountain and use the different materials that they removed from the mountain, like metal and dirt from the earth, and lumber from the trees, to build stuff with. I for one thought it was ingenious!

About three quarters of the way to the top, I stopped, trying to remember which path on which side of the steps to take to get to my destination. I shrugged and turned chose a path to the left.

A few hours later, I was passing by a forest when I saw what appeared to be a castle spire with a huge sign reading: Free Wi-Fi, another reading: Cybercafé, and another one that said: Writer’s Rum? Yum!.

I laughed out loud, running towards the signs. I could see large class doors up ahead. As I reached them, I slowed down, casually grabbing the café style door handle. As soon as I walked in, everything when deadly quiet, as if someone had put the place on mute. A young woman with more age lines than usual came out of a some double doors to my right, heading for a table in the back. “Hello, my name is Irin, welcome to the Writer’s Café, how may I help you?” She said, walking up towards me from the back table where two customers sat, looks of disgust on their faces, with a coffe pot in her hand. “Would you like some cof –“

Irin stopped dead in her tracks, looking at me curiously. Her face contorted for a moment before she drew a long, slender pen from her apron pocket. “Who are you!” She screamed, grabbing a sheet of paper from the counter as fast as humanly possible, scribbling on it with her pen. She held it up, a single elegant rune drawn on it that began to burn brightly, destroying the piece of paper.

Suddenly, I couldn’t see. I heard movement, and the sound of a chair hitting the ground. A screech that reminded me of metal grinding against metal reached my ears, and simultaneously, I felt a searing cold against my neck. “Who are you,” Irin asked again. When I didn’t speak, she said, “Cut him, Paradox.”

An intense pain began on my right arm, slowly trailing upward. It took me a second to realize what was happening: they were tracing my vein with a knife. I choked out the words, “It’s me! Summers! Or you may know me as Winters!” The pain stopped, and I felt a cold liquid being rubbed into the cut.

“Oh Irin,” A feminine voice commented. “What have we done?”


~~~~~~~


When Swabia had tried to avoid inevitably touching the door knobs, I knew something was up. Swabia was one of the most erudite players in the game. His inventions could only harm other people, not himself. That’s the way he had programmed them. So what about this doorknob was different?

I had examined it, turning it slowly back and forth, trying to figure out why he’d responded that way when he touched the handle. From what I could tell, it was just a silver handle, nothing more. How could such a simple silver handle cause such a reaction, I didn’t know. One thing I did know, though, was that I’d find out.

Infiltrating the castle was easy! I just grabbed my bag I’d gotten off of Ahdragos, and climbed the highest tree that didn’t have any ravens in it. Once I reached the top branched, I opened my empty bag up and held it over my head. I jumped off of the branch, the mist clouds seemingly being sucked into the open space of the bag, slowing down my fall. When I landed, it was on the roof. I tied the bad shut quickly.

Now, where is Swabia? I pondered mentally, running along the roof. That insistent sound had started up again, guiding me to a horizontal window on the roof, some sort of skylight, on the north side. When I opened it, I almost gagged. The smell was like rotting flesh and death. It must have been the stench I’d smelt earlier, thinking it was coming from the Forums. Blood soaked the floor, dripping from what looked like two carcasses chained to the wall with shackles on their ankles and wrists.

I gasped in shock. Swabia was hacking at the carcasses with an axe, screaming at them to be quiet while he had guests over. They moaned loudly in agreement. Wait..., I thought, Dead things don’t moan! Those things are alive.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming, putting a hand over my mouth. I watched him delicately lay the axe down, going to the doorway to the room and pressing a button on the wall. He exited the room, a big metal wall sliding it’s way from the right side of the entrance to the other side behind him, sealing the room shut.

I waited a minute before precariously opening the window, silently dropping down into the room. The smell was even more awful on ground level. I hastily drew one of my swords from the baldrics I had on my back. The blade, sharp from the tip to the hilt and serrated on one side, had a twin, which was held in the other baldric. I began cutting at the chains that held one of the bodies bound with the serrated side, successfully dislodging its’ hands. It was pouring some sort of golden-red substance from several wounds all along it’s’ body.

I thought I saw an eye staring at me while I worked on the shackles that held its’ feet. As soon as I had finished sawing through it, the body fell on my shoulder, making me go down with it. I closed my eyes, trying to make the smell, the sights, the sound, the reality of it all go away.

Unexpectedly, a noise, kind of like a girl or woman crying, reached my ears. I opened my eyes, green light emanating from something in my peripheral vision. Hair was in my mouth, and I spit it out quickly. “Thank you,” I heard something say. “Thank you so much!”

I looked over at my shoulder, staring at the body that lay on it. Healthy-looking skin seemed to be spreading itself over the corpse’s wounds. The head of it had grown the hair that I’d spit out of mouth. In the moonlight, it seemed to shine with a certain gloss and luster. The broken bones in its’ left arm begin realigning themselves, and bone fragments that lay scattered around the dungeon floor simultaneously flew off the ground and into the different places they had broken off of along the body.

The body began lifting itself off of my shoulder, extending a perfectly manicured hand and grasping mine, pulling me off of the dirty floor. The first thing I said was, “You’re naked.” The second thing was, “And you just completely healed yourself. How are you even alive?”
The woman still had her eyes closed, but they flew open promptly, green light flooding the room every time she opened them. She laughed quietly. “I’m the Oracle Hestia, although I have many names. That body over there is the Alchemist iZaln. Together, we are the Ancients, filled with – well, immense power. When captured, however, we lose it all until set free.” She smiled and snapped her fingers.

The Alchemists chains unlocked themselves, letting his healing process take place. She snapped them again and a blanket appeared over him. “Nobody wants to see that thing…” Hestia mumbled, still unclothed. “Hurry up iZaln, we don’t have much time before the Admin causes him to Change and hurt us!”

“Goodness gracious woman, I’m up already!” The blanket moved upward, and a man appeared from under it as it fell forward away from his body. I hurriedly shielded my eyes, bracing for the worst. “Relax Feather, I’m clothed.”

When I took my hands away from my eyes, sure enough, he and Hestia had clothes on. “Let’s move,” iZaln ordered, blasting through the door.

“Why don’t we just go up?” I asked, pointing to the skylight. “That’s how I got down anyway.”

Hestia leaped off the ground, landing on the wall and beginning to climb. She was on the ceiling in seconds, having found impossible foot and handholds. “What are you waiting for? Get moving guys!” called down Hestia.

Soon, we were running, running for our lives. The bag was thumping against my leg, slowing me down, but I couldn’t let go. No, I couldn’t. I could hear Swabia’s growls in the distance. He was getting closer, howling at the top of his lungs, succeeding at his attempt to make me feel severe trepidation.

Eventually, he caught us, trapping iZaln and I. “The Alchemist is dead,” I whispered, and then repeated, “iZaln is dead. Hestia will soon die, too, if the Child does not play with her first.” I forced the words out with a dying breath, the wind picking them up, hopefully carrying them to the Forums.
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